He pushed her hands aside, pulling open the fastenings of his own pants. “Come on, Merovy, please, let me, let me.…”
“Tammis—” She pushed at his chest, turning her face away from his kisses.
“I love you so much, Merovy. I don’t want it to happen with someone else… . It’s only you I want, forever; I want to pledge my life with you—”
She turned her face back again, her eyes wide with amazement, and he found her lips, kissing her long and deeply, smothering her attempt at words. He felt her hands give way, and her arms go around him then in answer. He freed himself, freed her, from the confinement and the protection of clothing, until there was nothing between his eager body and what waited to receive it. He slid in between her legs, felt her tremble beneath him; hating his clumsiness and confusion in the middle of his desperate need. She whimpered as he found the place where he was meant to be and began to push; cried out, like a seabird crying, as the membrane that held him back abruptly tore, and he entered her.
He froze as her arms tightened around him; held her tightly, kissing her with passionate tenderness as he saw the tears shining on her cheeks. And then, astonished by the sensation of being within her, he began to move, slowly and tentatively at first, and then more deeply, as her body began to respond to him, and he realized that the sounds she was making were muffled sounds of pleasure. His body controlled him now, carrying him like the sea through wave after wave of pleasure, until at last his pleasure crested and the tides flowed out of him. She gasped and sighed, and then she was kissing him wildly, gratefully. “I love you,” he whispered again, wonderingly, as he understood at last how a lifetime together with someone that you loved could seem like eternity, and yet not be long enough.
KHAKEMOUGH: Aspundh Estate
BZ Gundhalinu stood smiling at the edge of the perfectly manicured expanse of lawn, as his wife began the introduction to her latest work. The lawn rolled like a wine-red sea into the twilight, toward the distant shore of trees, with KR Aspundh’s invited guests scattered over it in expectant silence.
“The performance is about to begin—?” Aspundh came up beside him, and Gundhalinu turned, with his hands in his pockets, to acknowledge their host.
“Yes.” He removed a hand to glance at his watch. “In precisely two and a third minutes, at sunrise. I wanted to thank you for your kindness in inviting my wife to debut the performance of her new work here, Aspundh-ken. The gods themselves couldn’t have picked a more perfect setting for it. Our own knob of rock would never accommodate such a display, even though it is a celebration of our marriage.”
“Yes, so Gundhalinu-bhai told me. She is a unique and charming woman.”
Gundhalinu smiled, glancing down. He looked away again at the view, as dawn’s lavender-blue sky brightened with rose and peach, as the last fragile vestiges of the night’s auroras began to fade from the zenith. He stifled a sudden yawn.
“Dear me,” Aspundh chuckled. “Is it the hour, or the company?”
Gundhalinu shook his head vehemently, feeling his face flush. “Neither, 1 assure you,” he murmured. “Well … the hour, perhaps; but Dhara insisted that the work had to be presented exactly at sunrise. And I’ve been on stims for three days straight; my body doesn’t take it as kindly as it did in my student days.” He touched the skin patch pasted unobtrusively on the back of his neck. “Production schedules up at the shipyards were lagging behind. It was only a run of last-minute serendipity—call it a miracle—that I was able to get down here for the performance at all. I really thought I wouldn’t make it. I would have hated that.”
Aspundh smiled, with fleeting, inscrutable amusement. “Your presence here is a provident miracle indeed, then,” he said.
“Dhara was pleased and honored at your offer to sponsor her performance, and so was I,” Gundhalinu added, sincerely. “It’s good to see you again, Aspundh-ken.”
Aspundh shrugged modestly. “The honor is mine. I’ve been an admirer of her work for years—and yours. And also I have felt it was time—past time—that we spoke together again, Gundhalinu-ken; in light of our mutual interests. I know that your private time is nearly nonexistent, but there are some strangers far from home who share our concerns—” He glanced over his shoulder toward the manor house. “They would like to speak with you too.”
Gundhalinu followed his glance, startled by the unexpectedness of the invitation. He looked back at the place where Pandhara stood, about to begin.
“She won’t notice that you’ve gone,” Aspundh whispered, apologetically but urgently. “We’ll be back before the work is over.”
“I—” One look at Aspundh’s face told him that this was not an invitation made lightly, and not one that he could refuse. He nodded once, and followed the other man inside.
They made their way through the now-empty rooms until they reached one which overlooked the silent, enclosed inner courtyard. Five people were waiting there, three women and two men, reclining around a table. They were playing tan on the sunken table-surface. The table had been inlaid with patterns of semiprecious stones to form the geometric intricacies of the game board; the entire piece appeared to be very old.
He glanced up again, looking in curiosity from face to face. One man and one woman were offworlders; the two other women and remaining man were Kharemoughi. Aspundh made introductions: One of the Kharemoughi women was TDC Dhaki, a researcher he knew by reputation. The other was a Police inspector; the datapatch on her uniform read Kitaro. She was wearing a trefoil; he looked at her a moment longer, because there were not many sibyls on the force, and not many women either, as a rule. He glanced away again, as he realized suddenly that everyone in the room was not only Survey, but a sibyl.
Aspundh beckoned him to a place at the table. He settled onto a cushion, as Aspundh sat down beside him with the obvious difficulty of age. The others around the table assessed him in turn.
“We will dispense with tradition today,” Aspundh said, leaning forward to gather up the colored-crystal gaming pieces scattered on the table surface. “Time is limited, and we have important matters to cover.” He turned to Gundhalinu. “You said to me the last time we met that you were unsure who to trust, that you sensed there were factions and rivalries even within the Golden Mean itself.”
Gundhalinu smiled ruefully, and nodded. “The man who helped me control the stardrive plasma turned out to be working for the Brotherhood.” He glanced from face to face again. “That was my first, rudest awakening. But since my return home I’ve come to feel more and more that when they speak of the ‘best interests of the Hegemony’ at the Meeting Hall, they mean ‘the best interests of Kharemough.’ And frankly I for one do not believe the two are necessarily synonymous.”
“A lesson brought home to me some years ago, by our mutual acquaintance from Tiamat,” Aspundh murmured. “It was a hard lesson, but one that made many things clear for me. I have always loved Kharemough fiercely, and believed in our way of life, perhaps to a fault, because of my own family’s experiences. But I have come to see that as a limitation rather than a virtue of mine … one of many insights I have gained, along the way to enlightenment within this order.” He shrugged. “The reality of things is infinitely more complicated, and yet simpler, than any of us will ever know. It’s a lesson you grasped much more quickly than I, Gundhalinu-ken.”
Gundhalinu glanced down. “I had some formidably insistent teachers, Aspundh ken,” he said softly. “Sometimes I think the words we live by in Survey should not be ‘Ask the right questions,’ but ‘Trust no one completely.’”